Torchwood Estate
by FoxGlade
Summary: "Bloody hell, this is the most messed up place yet!" When Gwen moves into Torchwood Estate share house, her life is suddenly filled with prank wars, crazy stalker ex-boyfriends and scarily military neighbours... well, at least she won't be bored.


"Guys, this is Gwen!" Jack announced as he stepped into the living room, dramatic as ever. A wide eyed, dark haired woman was close behind him, and adoring look on her face as she watched Jack. "She might be renting out the spare room."

Logically, Gwen Cooper knew that she really, _really _shouldn't be here.

She was 23, training to be a copper, had a steady relationship with a lovely bloke – of course it was time she had her own place. But somehow it stood that she could leave high school without a second glance, move into a college share house with other teens she barely knew with good grace, and charge into police training head on… but when her long-term, definitely marriage material boyfriend asks her to move in, she flips.

God, it was almost _embarrassing_. She had stammered out an excuse, something about already promising to move in with a college buddy, and ran out. So here she was. And she knew several reasons why it was a bad idea. Including, but not limited to, the sheer number of horror stories she'd been told about share houses outside of college – stories of dead junkies found on sofas, drunken roomies pissing in the fridge, crazy people who only showed their crazy after a week of friendly chatter. And yet here she was, willing to risk life, limb and sanity to avoid committing to an already fairly committed relationship.

God, she wouldn't have to risk sanity then, would she? Clearly she had already lost it.

So after legging it at the first sign of a serious relationship, she had wandered the more run down part of Cardiff, looking for affordable, hopefully non-psychopath-attracting lodgings. And she was just beginning to think that it was too much to ask, when she saw the tiny little print out, stuck haphazardly to a telegraph pole, announcing that Torchwood Estate had a room to rent. Well, the name sounded posh enough for something in this part of Cardiff, she had thought, and it was the cheapest option she had seen so far that hadn't also advertised "green, leafy suburbs", the supposedly 'under the radar' code for a drug user household. And then it had only been a matter of getting hold of the phone number, arranging a look around the house, and suddenly... well, here she was.

The one introduced as Owen glanced up from the muted TV, looked Gwen up and down, grunted and turned back to his show. The girl, apparently Tosh, didn't even look away from where she was frantically typing on her laptop.

"That's Owen – real charmer, right?" Jack said to Gwen in a quieter voice. Gwen giggled. "And that's my lovely Toshiko, or rather Tosh. She's probably doing a last minute job right now. Uni student," he explained. He looked back to Owen. "So, where's Ianto?" he asked, trying and failing to sound casual. Owen rolled his eyes.

"Oh, fuck knows," he said with a snort. "Not here anyway, so don't panic." Seeing Gwen's confused look, he explained. "Jack and Ianto had a little domestic," he said with a grin. Gwen's eyes widened further. "Jack tried to put the moves on him about an hour after his girlfriend dumped him."

"I put the moves on him all the time and he doesn't mind!" Jack protested. "I do that to everyone! Hell, I put the moves on _you _Owen, doesn't mean I wanna sleep with you!"

"Thank God for that," Owen muttered. Gwen kept looking between the two like it was a tennis match. "And like hell you don't wanna sleep with tea-boy," he added. "It's almost disgusting the way you look at him."

Tosh didn't even pause in her typing to call out, "Ianto's at the library – his Stats paper is due tomorrow."

"Ah," Jack nodded. He looked back at Gwen. "It isn't normally this dysfunctional," he said. Owen snorted. "Okay, maybe it is," he admitted. "But you get used to it. Hell, you should've seen it when Suzie-" he paused and shook his head. "Never mind. I'm going to show Gwen the rest of the place," he told the others. Again, neither showed any indication of hearing.

Jack turned them both around and took the two steps into the kitchen. "This is… well, a place most of us avoid," Jack said sheepishly. "Also known as The Smallest Kitchen in Cardiff. You don't object to take-away do you?" Gwen shook her head.

"Good. None of us really know anything beyond cooking toast, so it's a student's diet for us – strictly take out and anything you can make out of bread and jam, really. It gets a little expensive sometimes, but we all chip in. And when Ianto or Owen get sick of it, which is at least once a week, either one'll make a proper meal, so we don't die of grease overload," he said with a smile.

"See that?" he asked, pointing to the old fashioned coffee machine in the corner of the tiny room. "That's Ianto's. Another reason to avoid this kitchen – Ianto makes the best coffee in the world, but if you touch that machine, he'll withhold it like an angry girlfriend. Not good." He paused. "I'm not making a very good case for living here, am I?" he said, spreading his hands out in a hopeless gesture.

Gwen appeared a little blank at the sudden influx of information, but smiled anyway. "Oh no, I'm getting more interested by the second," she said truthfully. Jack's answering grin was almost blinding as he lead her out of the kitchen and back into the tiny hallway.

"Oh, and that's the List," he added, pointing to a piece of paper stuck next to the kitchen door. "It pretty much sums up what not to do here."

Gwen read down the list quickly. "Did the land lord write it up?" she asked curiously. There seemed to be quite a bit of swearing on there for it to be written by a land lord.

"No, Ianto wrote it," Jack said. "He's pretty much in charge of the place, even though he's the youngest, and the newest – well, he was the newest," Jack added, looking at Gwen.

"Just walked in and fucking took over the place, he did," agreed another voice. Owen had apparently grown tired of whatever was on TV – that or Tosh's incessant typing – and joined them over near the List

"Finally peel yourself away from the couch, Owen?" Jack replied, amused.

"Fuck off Harkness," Owen growled.

"Anyway," Jack continued, turning back to Gwen, "the rules aren't actually that strict. Basically just keep the place tidy, and don't mess with Ianto when he's in a mood."

"A rule which Jack takes special care to break as often as he can," Owen added. Jack rolled his eyes.

"I do not!" he protested. Owen gave him a Look. "Okay, maybe," Jack admitted, "but not _that _often!"

"Right," Owen muttered. He turned his attention to Gwen and squinted. "You don't do drugs, do you?" he asked, suddenly serious. Gwen stared at him.

"I'm a bloody police officer in training, what do you think?" she said heatedly. Owen just grinned.

"I like her," he announced. "She's feisty. I like that in a woman," he added with a wink.

"Lay off, Harper," Jack said, but he was smiling. "I'm pretty sure I heard her say something about a boyfriend?" he said, looking to Gwen for confirmation. She nodded, suddenly blushing as she remembered how she had mooned over Jack earlier. Rhys was a sweetheart really, and an excellent catch – but could she be blamed for swooning a little when an extremely handsome man threw a winning smile her way? Rhys, bless him, wasn't lacking in the looks department, but he certainly wasn't up to Jack's level.

"I dunno, did I hear _you_ say something about a boyfriend?" she snarked. Jack laughed while Owen rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I should be so bloody lucky," he moaned. "If only they would get their shit together and start shagging! It would be a bloody miracle I tell you. Although," he added thoughtfully, "I think we've stopped needing to pay the heating bill – those two raise the temperature with all their bloody looks, I-"

Owen's head connected with the wall mid-sentence. "Sorry, slipped," Jack said innocently, winking at Gwen. And if Gwen melted a bit inside, well, who would know? "Owen here fancies himself a matchmaker, you see," Jack explained, "and God forbid he let little things like sexuality get in his way!" he finished, grinning. Gwen laughed.

"So, you're not..?" she asked curiously.

"Oh, Jack'll do anything that moves," Owen said sulkily, rubbing his head and glaring at Jack. "Ianto's the one that's straight as anything."

"So he says!" Jack said brightly. "One day he'll realise I'm the one for him!"

Gwen looked at them both in confusion, then at Tosh, who had presumably wandered out into the hall to investigate the bang Owen's head had made against the wall. "So," she began. "Jack and Ianto flirt like anything, but Ianto's straight, and Jack's never going to ask him out, but believes one day they'll get together?" she said helplessly. Tosh shrugged as the two men just smiled. "Bloody hell, this is the most messed up place yet!" she cried, throwing her hands up, almost hitting the ceiling. She looked at Tosh. "You're the only normal one here," she decided. "God give me strength."

"You'll get used to it," Tosh said soothingly, but Gwen could tell she was hiding a grin. "If you stick around, that is," she added, almost shyly.

"Well, I guess I'll have to now, won't I?" she said exasperatedly. "Just so I can know what's bloody going on!"

Jack slung an arm over her shoulder as Tosh moved in to hug her with an excited squeal. "I'm finally going to have another girl to talk to in this place!" she muttered. "You have no idea how horrible it's been!"

"Welcome to Torchwood, Gwennie!" Jack said, far too cheerfully. Gwen groaned.

"I have no idea what I've gotten myself into, have I?" she moaned, but she was smiling. Whatever it was, she had a feeling that she wouldn't be bored any time in the near future.

* * *

><p><strong>So… epic fail? Epic win? Nothing epic at all? Tosh was a bit OOC, I realised, and I don't Owen swears quite that much… anyway, drop a review to praise, critique or tell me to bugger off. Oh, and quite a bit of this is coming from an Australian book on share houses, so... forgive any cultural differences.<br>**


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